The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur - Страница 49

• Предыдущая
• 49/177
• Следующая

an ally."

"And the monastery is probably your deep cover base.

You use it and the monks for resupply and intelligence.

Am I right?"

"You know me too well, Nicholas."Mek Nimmur shook his head ruefully.

"You taught me much of what I know, so why should you not be able to

guess my strategy? The monastery makes a perfect base of operations.

It's close enough to the border-' he broke off, smiling. "But there is

no need to explain it to you, of all people."

Mek had his men build a night shelter for Nicholas and Royan, and cut a

mattress of grass to cushion their sleep. They lay close together under

the flimsy roof. The night was sultry, and they did not miss their

blankets.

Nicholas had a tube of insect repellent in his pack to keep the

mosquitoes at bay After they had settled down on the grass mattress,

their heads were close enough together to allow them to converse in

quiet tones. When he turned his head Nicholas could see the dark

silhouettes of Mek Nimmur and Tessay still sitting close together by the

fire.

"Ethiopian girls are different from the Arabs, and from most other

African women." Royan too was watching the other couple. "No Arab girl

would dare be alone with a man like that. Especially if she were a

married woman."

"Any way you cut it, they make a damned fine pair," he gave his opinion.

"Good luck to them. Tessay hasn't had much of that lately - she is

overdue."

He turned his head and looked into her face, "What about you, Royan,

what are you? Are you a decorous, submissive Arab, or an independent,

assertive Western girl?"

"It's both a little early and much too late for intimate questions of

that nature," she told him, and turned over, presenting him with her

back.

"Ah, we are standing on ceremony this evening!

Goodnight, Woizero Royan."

"Goodnight, Alto Nicholas," she replied, keeping her face turned away

from him so that he could not see her smile.

The gorilla column moved out before dawn the next morning. They marched

in full battle order, with scouts moving ahead and flankers covering

each side of the path.

"The army come down here into the gorge very seldom, but we are always

ready for them when they do come," Mek Nimmur explained. "We try to give

them a hearty welcome."

Tessay was watching Mek Nimmur as he spoke; indeed, she had seldom taken

her eyes off him that morning. Now she murmured to Royan, "He is a truly

great man, a man who could unite our land, perhaps for the first time in

a thousand years. I feel humble in his presence, and yet I also feel

like a young girl again, filled with joy and hope."

The march back to the monastery took the entire morning. When they came

in sight of the Dandera. river, Mek Nimmur drew his men back off the

path into thick bush, while sending only one scout forward. After an

hour's wait, a party of acolytes came up from the monastery, each

carrying a large bundle balanced upon his head.

They greeted Mek with deep reverence, and handed over their bundles to

his men before returning down the pathway into the gorge of the Abbay.

The bundles contained priestly shammas, headcloths and sandals. Mek's

men changed out of their camouflage fatigues into these garments, all of

which were well worn and unwashed for the sake of authenticity. They

wore only their sidearms under the robes. All their other weapons and

equipment they cached in one of the caves in the limestone Cliffs, and

left a detachment to guard them.

Now as a party of monks they covered the last few miles to the

monastery, to be welcomed joyously by the community there. Here Nicholas

and the women left Mek, and climbed the steep path up into the grove of

wild fig trees. Boris was waiting for them, pacing about the camp, angry

and frustrated.

"Where the hell have you been, woman?" he snarled at Tessay. "Been

whoring around all night, have you?"

"We lost our way yesterday evening." Nicholas fed him the cover story

that they had agreed with Mek Nimmur, to maintain his security. Boris

was hardly the man to trust.

"And we were picked up by a party of monks from the monastery this

morning. They brought us back."

"You are the big hunter and tracker, are you?" Boris sneered at him.

"You didn't need me to guide you, hey? You got yourself lost, did you,

English? I see now why you want only to shoot dik-dik." He guffawed

without humour, and looked at Tessay with those pale dead eyes. "I will

talk to you later, woman. Go and see to the food."

Despite the heat, both Nicholas and Royan were hungry. In short order,

Tessay was able to serve a tasty cold lunch under the shady branches of

the fig trees. Nicholas refused the wine that Boris offered him.

want to go out hunting again this afternoon. I have lost almost a whole

day."

"You want me to hold your hand this time, English?

Make sure you don't lose yourself again?"

"Thanks, old chap, but I think I can manage without you."

While they ate Nicholas nudged Royan and told her, "Your admirer has

arrived."

He jerked his head at the lanky, ungainly figure of Tamre, who had

sneaked up quietly and was now sitting near the kitchen hut, As soon as

Royan looked at him his face split into a doting idiotic grin, and he

bobbed his head and squirmed with ecstatic shyness.

"I will not come with you this afternoon," Royan told Nicholas quietly,

when Boris was not listening. "I think there is going to be trouble

between him and Tessay. I want to stay here with her. Take Tamre with

you."

"My word, what an attractive alternative. All my life I have waited for

this moment." But when he had picked up his rifle and pack, he beckoned

the boy to follow him.

Tamre looked around eagerly for Royan, but she was in her hut. At last,

dragging his feet, he followed Nicholas up the valley.

"Take me to the other side of the river," he told the boy. "Show me how

to reach the side where the holy creature lives." Tamre perked up at the

prospect, and broke into a shambling trot as he led Nicholas over the

suspension bridge below the pink cliffs.

For an hour they followed the path, but gradually it petered out until

it ended in bad and broken ground amongst the erosion'carved hills.

Undeterred, Tamre plunged into the thorny scrub, and for another two

hours they scrambled over rocky ridges and through thorn-choked valleys.

"I can see why you didn't want to bring Royan this way here. You will

not move. You will not speak. You will even breathe very, very quietly,

until I come back to fetch you.

If you utter even one little prayer before I return, I will personally

start you on your journey to meet St.. Peter at the gates of heaven. Do

you understand me?"

He went forward alone, but the little antelope was thoroughly alarmed by

now Nicholas saw it twice more, but he only had fleeting glimpses of

ruddy brown movement almost entirely screened by bush. He stood

directing bitter imprecations towards the boy monk and listening to the

tick of small hooves on dry earth as it raced away, deeper into the

thickets. In the end he was forced to give up the hunt for that day.

• Предыдущая
• 49/177
• Следующая